


The Boy Born to Sacrifice

by WhippedChocolate



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canonical Child Abuse, College, Collegestuck, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6856564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhippedChocolate/pseuds/WhippedChocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like a snowflake descending into a lit chimney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Born to Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story was taken from this picture: http://moarchocolate.tumblr.com/post/137647381091/agigemask-happy-birthday-for-a-boy-who-born-to. The story is one I've been passively working on for probably a year now and the text attached to this picture just struck me as being perfect for it.
> 
> Also, just so people know, there's going to be the use of a date rape drug in this first chapter, but there will never be any non or dub con in this story.

Going to college had always been a big maybe in Dave’s life. He hadn’t expected to get in or to be able to afford it, but here he was, three weeks in and riding on a scholarship with friends he’d only ever seen over Skype. Over the next few weeks, their group melded together, changing and morphing into the kind of friendship Dave had read about in books. Everyone else smiled and laughed with each other effortlessly, and it was if they'd all known each other face to face since their first IMs. At least, that was how it was for Rose, Jade and John. It was like their puzzle pieces autonomously created new dips and prongs to accommodate each other, while Dave was trying to break and contort himself to fit in with theirs, only to look up and find that his piece was stuck jutting awkwardly out of the edges of their friendship puzzle.

It was kind of shitty to deal with, that vague sense that if he stepped away, their lives would continue on easily without him there without missing a beat. This was the thought Dave kept tucked in the back of his mind, a painful truth that he'd assured himself didn't matter. Long as he got up in the morning and did his job in going through the motions of life and everyone else was happy, that was good enough. There was a niceness to the routine beginning to wear into his days, new enough to be novel and three weeks old enough to be comfortable.

It was a morning like that, comfortable but special, that would start off things going to shit. Slowly, like a snowflake descending into a lit chimney. The morning began pleasantly benign, and Dave was still in bed, watching John.

Since moving in, their room had filled out considerably, mostly thanks to John and his seemingly infinite amounts of money. The main area that had been splurged on most was their makeshift, possibly illegal kitchen, which was where John was. Their kitchen was a long table against John’s side of the room and it had a rice cooker and two hot plates, plus some pots and pans and everything else in plastic drawers slid beneath the table. Dave had suggested the drawers but the kitchen overall had been John’s idea. John spent the most time in it, as the guy actually cooked.

John, the some-percentage-of-Asian god of the rice cooker. Guy was one tall mother fucker, topping Dave by about an inch. He was standing at the counter wearing nothing but socks and grey sweat pants, and the lines and dips of John's shoulders formed an iron meshwork of muscles that stretched and pulled with little to no effort as he busied himself with getting white rice. His shoulders and chest were formed like the marble statues in museums that people stopped and stared at, brains barely able to wrap around the concept that somebody had made solid stone look like your fingers would sink into it at the touch. Except instead of marble white and freckles like Dave, John was definitely dark skinned. Sometimes, watching John was like listening to Morgan Freeman’s voice, as idiotic as that might sound.

Dave had learned pretty quickly that while his own thin, lean muscles were refined from rooftop strifes and years of swordplay and being on guard, John had simply been born with godly shoulders. Not that Dave was all that envious or that he stared too much, but they were, admittedly, really, really nice to look at. 

John turned his head to grab a bowl and glanced at Dave. "Oh, sorry. I thought I was being quiet.”

“It’s fine. I was awake when you got out of bed.”

“Again?” John gave a huff of a laugh and scooped rice into a bowl. “You're the lightest sleeper I know," John shook his head and Dave's eyes lifted from his back to the mess of thick black hair. "Like, I wake up, and your eyes open before I can even get out of bed. Do you sleep, like, at all?"

"Calling me weird? That's rich coming from a guy trying to make rice for his fucking breakfast," Dave sat up, he could tell John was rolling his eyes despite having his back to him. "No, I'm serious. What are you even making over there?"

"Rice for breakfast," John repeated and pulled an egg out of the refrigerator. Dave stretched, toes curling and ribs aching, and slowly got up and out of bed, curious about what he was doing. John glanced back, moved over to let him in, and molded a little depression in the center of the rice. Then John cracked the egg on the side of the bowl and dumped the raw egg directly into the hole in the rice. Dave expected him to do something to try and cook it, but instead the fool was reaching for some soy sauce.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Dave demanded.

"Breakfast."

"You can't just eat a raw egg dude you have to cook it first."

"That's why I got the organic ones," John replied and poured soy sauce directly into the bowl, and Dave's nose wrinkled up at the abomination he was creating.

"What is it?"

"It's just rice with a raw egg in it."

"Dude, that's gross, don't eat that."

"Dave, shut up and eat cereal," John leaned towards him and Dave scooted away. "It's really not that bad." Dave made a doubtful noise but watched John stir it up, turning the white rice into some kind of orange and then brown mush. "You wanna try some?" John held the bowl out to him and Dave hesitated, up until he remembered he threatened to eat all of Rose's cookie batter and this wasn't that different. Accepting the bowl, he squinted down at it and frowned.

After mixing it around a few times, Dave got a small spoonful and ate it. It tasted mostly like egg yolk with a bit of the saltiness of soy sauce in the background. It was surprisingly hearty and really good, but- "it's slimey. Like, super slimey. Like, live slug looking to get nasty by covering itself in lube and mucus to lure in other slimier slugs who specifically have a slime fetish slimey."

"But it tastes good, right?" John accepted his bowl back, took a whole clump and stuck it directly into his mouth. Dave frowned again. "Reminds me of home."

"Your dad make that stuff for you?" Dave asked, and John nodded. "What is that shit called? No offense but the sliminess is hella gross, man."

"Tamago kake gohan," John replied slowly and stuck a mouthful in. "Your fath ith groth."

"You should be eating fructose corn syrup and all of the other stuff they try to ninja sugar in as, not protein and sodium," Dave scolded and John rolled his eyes again. 

"I just wanted to actually make something before I get too lazy in the morning," John shrugged. 

"What kind of other stuff does your old man make for breakfast?"

"He makes stuff like eggs, bacon and pancakes too, um," John pushed the home button on his phone sitting on the counter and nudged his glasses up. "Hey, you should get dressed or else we're gonna be late for class."

"It’s a Monday, proper clothes are for shmucks. I can go in my pajamas. You should go in your pajamas too," Dave pointed at him and picked up one of the bowls they had stacked on the table.

"Really? I thought you were married to your skinny jeans."

"We have an open relationship."

John laughed, and Dave walked backwards to a pair of skinny jeans on the floor, replacing them with his pajamas before he stepped into them, shimmying them over his butt and beginning the slow process of gradually getting ready. He and John had a few classes together, the one they were about to go to now was Chemistry. Which John was of course bomb at, but at least Dave had him beat on math which, realistically, was the more important part of Chem.

Their Chem class took place in a small, seashell shaped auditorium. It had at least fifteen semicircle rows of seats all descending down to the whiteboard and the teacher's table. If Dave had had his way, they would've sat in the back but John edged them up a couple of rows so they could hear their chubby old white-haired professor, who, note, was actually a pretty cool guy. So far he had yet to laugh at any question and once a week there was always a Chemistry pun up on the whiteboard that was faintly stained red, blue and black from past equations that couldn't quite be cleaned off. This week's joke was "DON'T TRUST ATOMS, THEY MAKE UP EVERYTHING". The old guy said it was to help make Monday's a little more bearable, and that was certainly the sort of mindset Dave could get behind.

The lecture started up, and John and Dave had their shared textbook opened up between them on John's little swing out desk. Neither of them were really taking notes, opting to sit and doodle in their notebooks, though John was glancing up throughout his doodling to actually pay attention.

Dave's phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped his notebook down to his stomach to hide his cellphone. Not all that confident the old guy would be able to spot it from all the way up there, but whatever.

He sat there for a while staring at his phone. Rather than click on anything he just scrolled down to the bottom of the message, went back up to double check the sender and reread the message to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. His heart slowly descended heavy and hard towards his stomach.

"What's up?" John whispered in his ear and Dave twitched, startled. He hit a button on the side of his phone and the screen went black. "Dave?"

"Nothing," Dave shook his head and slipped his phone into his pocket, eyes going back to the blue stripes across his white paper.

"Something scary on your phone?" John asked and Dave shook his head, mute. "Hey, Jade wants to go try Starbucks today, you up for it?"

Dave paused, trying to corral all of his thoughts together into a pen. Starbucks was so expensive. "Nah," he glanced over at John and then looked down at John's hands, the direction of his gaze hidden by his sunglasses. "I gotta go do something after class."

"Okay," John twirled his pencil around in his fingers and Dave stared, trying to memorize the little moons in John's nails. His hands were strong, fingers long enough to take any piano down at any given second. The wrinkles at his finger joints were lighter than the rest of his skin, he needed hand cream. John was undoubtedly going to wreck this Chemistry class out of the park, he did pretty much everything perfectly, and Dave- fuck.

After class Dave split, heading in the direction of their dorm room on the other edge of campus, only to sit down on a bench once he was around the Chemistry building and out of John’s sight. The hot humid air stuck to his skin in a constant film and pressure, and the smell of trees, grass and plants in general was so potent, it was going to settle right above the spot between his eyebrows, and behind his eyes in a horrible, burning pressure if he stayed outside for too long. Other students walked by, laughing, and he opened his phone back up to reread the message, brain getting stuck like tar on the words "scholarship". His mouth was so dry the little bumps of his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

He kept reading the little words on his little white screen like a new meaning would stumble out, like he'd misunderstood something and new words would come out between the lines if he kept reading it. As he read it again the other words began to wash out and his brain pinned "scholarship" and "out of money" to the forefront.

"What the shit," he muttered and looked yet again at the sender. God, he needed to be calm. That was the university's e-mail address, but he didn’t know how a scholarship could possibly run out of money. How was that a thing? Weren’t they supposed to as permanent as a nude pic gone public?

He'd only been here for three weeks; there was no way he could be kicked out already. Rose, Jade and John all had money behind them, guardians with wallets who could help forward them off to school. People who would pick them back up if they fell. Dave had jackshit. Bro hadn’t reacted at all when he’d told him he was going to college and there was no way Dave was going back- it wasn’t that he didn’t love Bro and he knew Bro loved him in his weird, fucked up ways, but it’d been kind of nice not to have to deal with wondering if the drawer you were about to open was full of fireworks or literal knives, or having his ass dragged around to improve sword technique.

Never imagined someone would ever be able to sock so him so hard in the chest with such formal words, either. "Dave Strider, we regret to inform you..." As if they actually cared. Shit. Shit, what was he going to do? 

Dave started the walk back to the dorm room with his phone to his ear for lack of something better to do, his feet carrying him too quickly in his agitation, bright green star shaped leaves getting stuck to the bottom of his shoes. The lady over the phone was semi interested at best, and when she pulled up his file she repeated the same message he'd already read over and over in his message box. "How is it possible to run out of money?" He demanded, panic growing cold in the center of his chest and sinking into the tender parts of his lungs with cat's claws. "It’s supposed to be a full ride scholarship.”

"The scholarship isn’t officially out of money,” she corrected carefully. “But we do run on donations and each year the donations have been shrinking.”

"I just got here!” Dave didn’t quite reach a shout but the volume was too much in his own ears, and he dropped his voice back down to a normal level. “Do you have any idea how much planning I’ve put into this? What am I supposed to do if I hit the end of this year and there’s a tuition bill I can’t pay for?”

There was a small pause on the phone, broken up by manicured nails tapping quickly on a keyboard. Students glanced at him as they passed, trying to figure out why he was stopped right in the middle of foot traffic. Couldn't breathe very well, his chest and throat hurt and his insides were cold.

Calm down, calm down. Really shouldn't be feeling anything at all about this. Quit being so overdramatic, idiot. "You shouldn’t have to worry about this semester, it’s- it would be more for the long term and most likely-“

"Christ.”

“We would hate for our students to lose a scholarship just as you much as you do,” she insisted patiently and Dave actually barked a laugh. “We want all of our students to have a chance at success, I assure you, we’re going to do everything we can to make sure this won’t happen, but we had to-”

Dave hung up. 

For lack of anywhere better to go Dave returned to their dorm room, ignoring the text messages from John and tossing his shoes off at the entrance and sitting down on his bed. His skin felt like a hard shell, keeping all of the hot air of agitation blowing itself up inside of him forcibly contained to the point of discomfort, like he was too full of everything. Dave didn't let himself move or do anything besides sit there and try to calm his stupid ass down, and the more he told himself to stop being an idiot the more the pressure inside of him built up, like steam being pushed into a place without release.

His chest began to ache again. It was beginning to get weirdly hollow and he didn't know what he was going to do if his scholarship fell through. He didn't have anything else. Bro sure as shit didn't have money and there was just- there was no way, what was he going to do? When were the withdrawal dates?

Dave snatched his laptop up and propped himself up against the wall, searching for the withdrawal dates. If he withdrew early, he might get some of the tuition money back but he knew for fucking sure he probably wouldn't get anything for next semester if he quit- or was that just for financial aid? A heavy, wet lump built up in Dave's throat as he attempted to calmly search his school's website. He was being an idiot for feeling anything in the first place, what was panicking going to do? Nothing. Absofuckinglutely nothing, and here he was, being a gigantic moron about it and getting his panties all up in a twist over something he should have full control of his emotions over.

The door opened and in came John, and Dave was both relieved and put off by his appearance. Go back outside, where Dave could keep doing this and John could be totally uninvolved and nowhere near enough to find out or make things worse by distracting him. Get out, get out.

"Hey!" John greeted and Dave didn't look up, mentally wishing John would turn tail and leave. "Jade was super happy to try Starbucks out, you should've seen it, it was kind of cute."

Dave hummed back and clicked on the University's dates, looking at the withdrawal date. November 10th. That was over a month off. A tall shape moved in front of Dave. "I got you a drink, you wouldn't answer my text messages, so I got the chocolate one since I figure chocolate is a win-win for everybody," John continued and he flopped down on Dave's bed without a shred of fucking warning, and Dave snapped his laptop shut. John paused, looking at him, and Dave did not look back. "Are you looking at porn?"

"Do you think I would keep looking at porn when you came into the room?" Dave responded automatically. "I'm afraid our relationship hasn't reached that level of homosexual tension for me to make such blatant overtures of homoerotica. But if I did, I would've turned the volume up."

"Watching porn in front of me would be a pretty bad way of confessing to me," John decided and scrunched his nose up, holding out a tall iced drink that had a deflated puff of whipped cream and chocolate drizzle on top. Dave's heart did a painful, wet and cold twist in his chest at the sight of it, unsure what to do about receiving a gift. Why did John buy this? "My hand is freezing, take it."

"I don't want it."

"Dude, I'm not going to drink two fraps in one day, they’re like a thousand calories a pop. Take it. It's for you."

Dave hesitated and finally accepted it. "You really don't have to give me this kind of stuff."

"I know I don't. There's a reason it's called a gift," John set his hands together and spread them apart. "What were you doing, anyway?"

"Nothing of great import," Dave lied, really uncertain what to do with his drink or what John wanted from him in return for it. "You just startled me, is all."

John already knew all about the scholarship, they all did- they'd celebrated it with him over a Skype group chat and the general air of excitement about being able to see each other all in person had exploded into a party. Being in person was something Dave wouldn't trade anything for but it was so much harder to hide things.  
All it took in a chat conversation to play the happy card was making sure to add enthusiastic words like "yeah man" and "sweet" and the lie was perfected. John didn't need to know about any of this, or how screwed over Dave was about to be, if he was as thoroughly fucked as he was beginning to think he was. He'd disappoint everyone. He was pretty sure John was aware that Dave was dirt poor, but he didn't need him to... know again. Fuck, he didn't know what he was talking about. He just knew he didn't want to go back to Texas. It'd been nice, having the certainty of eating every night and actually being able to have a life away from strifing and balancing school and work just to make sure he and Bro could pay rent and Dave had a shot at going to college.  
He couldn't go back to that. It'd barely been three weeks, yet he didn't want to go back to every other thought revolving around money.

For having told himself repeatedly to be calm and that none of this was a big deal, the hot pressure sitting dead center of his chest hadn't abated. His face didn't reflect even a bit of it and he didn't move or do anything besides sit there holding his very cold drink, which was partially melted. The brown liquid pressed up against the bottom half of the cup, brown speckles of what must be bits of chocolate and ice. Hadn't had Starbucks that often, it was way too expensive, and John came in and just handed him a cup of frozen joy like it was nothing. The last thing Dave needed on top of this was owing John a favor for it.

What kind of favor would he want, anyway? Agitated as he was, he didn't trust himself not to do something to give himself away or to upset John. It was always best to remain neutral during times like these. Except John was looking at him, eyebrows lifted and eyes narrowed in something like confusion or plain what? 

Doing nothing wasn't working. "Hey, so," John started, and Dave allowed himself to readjust his grip on the very cold drink. "There's one thing I've kind of been wanting to do that we haven't done yet."

There it was. This was the favor John wanted in return for the drink. "What's that?"

"Kind of curious to see who would win in a fight," John admitted, and Dave made a small huff in surprise. God, what? Dave was about to have the royal red carpet yanked out from under his feet and John wanted to wrestle. "I mean- come on, we've been living together for like half a month and we haven't tried to wrestle or anything even once. I wanna see how lame your Strider moves are."

"The Strider fight style is a sacred art refined from many years of rooftop strifing," he retorted. "I don't know if I'm in the mood for it right at this exact second."

"Come on," John insisted and he tapped Dave's thigh.

"Nah."

"Don't be such a bitch."

"I'm not being a bitch,” Dave replied calmly. “I'm just not in the mood for it."

"I bring you your drink and you can't even fulfill my fight request," John set his hand to his chest in faux drama.

Guilt pricked at him, a sharp addition to the aching stuffiness in his chest. He looked at the drink, ashamed and guilty that he didn’t want to do what John wanted. "Look, I'll give you a raincheck," Dave stated and drew out an invisible check in the air. "I will hand one John Egbert a hardcore ass-whooping that will be so brutal he will cry about it. Just not at this exact second."

John blew air out between his lips and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Hey, would you be interested in going to a party this weekend?"

"Changin topics on me fast, Egbert."

He shrugged. "I've never been to an official college party and like, I'm not sure Rose or Jade have either. Or any parties period for the both of them. It'll be fun. You up for it?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Sweet," John grinned, eyes shining, and Dave automatically returned it without wanting to. "Okay, it's on this weekend on Friday. Dress up cool."

"So show up in my natural state of being. Got it."

The weekend rolled around and Dave's tension over school was placed aside for the party. They all crammed themselves into John's big white truck. Surprisingly it somehow had enough room for the four of them, but Dave liked giving John shit about having a truck anyway.

It was already night when they left and the party echoed down the block just as the crowd of cars came into view. John parked almost half a block away, insisting he didn't want to deal with someone rear ending him or messing up his front bumper, and Dave threw his head back in mock disapproval and cursed him.

Dave hadn't done much to change what he normally wore, mostly because he didn't have much else nice to wear. Skinny jeans and a white shirt with red sleeves, hell fucking yes. He had one single suit that he'd owned for several years now and he was pretty sure that would be overdressing for a college party.

The girls meanwhile were pretty much stunning. Rose, who was a head shorter than Dave and had a lot of fluff, had done her duty of rocking a short black goth dress that was all morbid lace and purple ribbons, opera length gloves of course included. She had the kind of boobs and body that made her look like she was built for snuggling, if not for the eyeliner that looked sharp enough to cut a man’s hand off. 

Jade, on the other hand, was wearing a big frilly green skirt and some tights that had cat faces on them, and that wild black lioness mane was as free and chaotic as ever. While she wasn’t as tall as Dave she was definitely more along John’s body type, with a jungle girl body made from climbing trees and hands buried in soft soil and mud. Both girls wore heels Dave would surely snap his ankles trying to walk in and as they stepped out they glittered under the orange lamplights.

Then there was John, who'd told him to "look cool" and had proceeded to slap on a button up plaid shirt and- get this- a fucking bowtie. Sure, the plaid was- great, it was really great, it'd been a long time coming considering John looked like a goddamn lumberjack, but a bowtie. He’d tied it in front of their tiny bathroom mirror and everything. It made him look like an idiot, but since it was John it looked great anyway, and. Fuck him, basically, for looking incredible no matter what he wore. 

Both Jade and Rose hooked onto either of John's arms, and Dave tucked his hands into his pockets. "This is so exciting!" Jade did a little skip. "I'm super excited, first big party ever. Hee hee."

"Just remember to keep your eyes on your drink," Rose warned gently. "If you feel suddenly dizzy or differently at all, tell me immediately."

"Alright!" Jade beamed and she pushed herself against John's arm and he laughed, leaning back to keep her from tipping him over.

"Don't accept drinks from random guys either," John piped up and the music steadily grew louder. "If somebody's making you uncomfortable or anything, just tell me or Dave and we'll get rid of them."

Rose pointed at the boys. "They can also be your pseudo boyfriends in a pinch."

Jade made an O with her mouth. "Can they both be my boyfriends?"

Dave lifted his sunglasses and winked, and Jade burst out into giggles that summoned a genuine smile to his face. "You'll be fine," Dave promised. "Just have fun and be chill or whatever."

"But safely," Rose chided.

"Yeah whatever."

"I'll be safe with my macho boyfriends," Jade patted John's manboob and they rounded up to the front of the house, pausing on the sidewalk. It was a big, two story house that looked exactly like what Dave expected a frat house to look like, with its white paint and black shutters, its windows full of countless people all dancing and base pouring out of the open door. Laughing, Jade let go of John to grab Rose and pull her into the house, and they jogged up the steps together and disappeared into the crowd.

"Ready?" John asked and tilted his head, Dave shrugged. "Try not to take up too much room with your coolness, Mister Dave Strider."

"Should be telling you the same thing with your giant firm nerd ass," Dave countered. "Are you sure you don't want to drink? I could DD."

John shook his head quickly. "Nah, I'll be okay! If I decide to drink I'll just get us an Uber, don't worry about it, Dave."

Nodding, they went up the steps together. Some pop remix vibrated through the floors and up into their shoes and into their skin, so intense that it sank into Dave's throat and reached into the center of his chest. The soft burn of booze and the musty scent of sweat and a mesh of different perfumes and colognes layered the air, and there were girls wearing obscenely tiny skirts and guys wearing khaki shorts and button ups. A dull ache already set into Dave's temples as John made a beeline for the floor, presumably to dance or do whatever it was John decided he liked to do at parties, and Dave wandered up the stairs.

He wandered around the people collected in pairs on the steps, bypassing two girls making out on the stairwell and turning his head to watch before prying them away to make sure he knew where he was going. There were people in pretty much every space imaginable and where he didn't want to imagine them, all of them lining along the walls and holding red cups.

What did people do at parties? He searched the numerous faces, music vibrating invasively in the center of his chest and there were so many people around he couldn't turn in any direction without seeing them crowded around everywhere, and all of the sights, sounds and smells ran through him so fiercely there wasn't any room for privacy inside his own head.

Someone seized his wrist and Dave whirled around, grabbing his fist to pull it up and out to- "Whoa!" John exclaimed and let go of him, rubbing at his hand like Dave had struck him. Overhead the music changed to some rap or some shit like that, he didn't know. "Dude, first off, what the fuck? Second, where did you go? You’re supposed to be downstairs!”

John took him by the wrist again, dragging him back down the stairwell. In all of the chaos banging against the inside of his skull he focused on the roughness of John's hand, the curl of his fingers around his wrist and the press of his palm against his skin, and tried not to think about yanking his hand free.

John towed him to the center of the dance floor and released him. Automatically John began to rock side to side, hands raised up to chest level, and without so much as missing a beat his body melted into the music, and he rolled his hips to the side in a way that made Dave's mouth go completely dry.

Dave glanced around, noting the people bumping into him and the ones who didn't look like complete idiots, and trying to figure out how to copy in a way that didn't totally bail him out as some skinny ass white boy who didn't know how to dance. Dancing was something he’d never done it in front of other people before, and he- a girl backed up and stumbled into him and he recoiled. If one more person gently bumped into him he was going to have an aneurysm.

"Dave!" John hollered and raised his eyebrows at him, laughing. "Dude, come on!"

Somebody kill him. He'd had several days to at least look up a YouTube video on how to dance at a party or do some kind of research, but he'd been so distracted by this scholarship bullshit he hadn't thought to.

"Dave," John stuck his chin out and slowed down to a stop. After a second, John raised his hands up to his chest again and started to bounce a little to the music, then stepped side to side in the same spot, watching him expectantly.

Dave blinked at him and, as another person bumped into him (someone was going to walk up and stab him in the back) it clicked that this was a dancing lesson. Attempting to stuff his pride away, Dave raised his hands up the way John had and started to bob his weight from foot to foot.

John's eyes dragged down his body and it was weirdly intimate, or maybe that was Dave just being fucking weird, but either way it brought a warmth to Dave's face that made him glad the lighting in here was shitty. Wasn't really sure if he looked like a fool or not til John wrinkled his nose and threw his hands up and cheered, and that was as good of a pass as Dave was going to get.

It was hard to really get into it the way John seemed to. John slipped back into the energy of the crowd and it was seamless, he didn't even miss a beat and there was no thought or effort into the way he moved his body, fluid and strong and it would have seem practiced if there wasn't a level of spontaneity and joy to it. There was an open freedom in it that made Dave’s eyes stick to him, John was a person just meant to be appreciated.

Dave couldn’t dance the way John could, and Dave couldn't shut off the part of his brain that was aware he was surrounded by probably over a hundred people, all of whom could turn and do something to him at any second and it would be impossible to hear it coming over all of this music. Yet, it was sort of nice to be apart of the crowd in some way, even if he was doing it like a clumsy piece of shit. There was almost a sense of fitting into a spot within a greater whole that was there for the sole purpose of having fun and laughing.

Almost, anyway. It was a little too loud and overall busy for his tastes, but he could appreciate what was going on around him and being part of it. Just seeing everyone having fun stirred something inside of him, a little spirit connected to the energy that made him that much more alive.

Not alive enough to stay on the dance floor for too long. There were too many people bumping into him and not being able to keep track of them all in this tight space was giving him a headache, and he felt jerky and unnatural. He spotted Rose off in the distance and he yelled to John and jerked his head in her direction.

The corner Rose stood in holding a red cup was, unfortunately, not that quiet, but it set the entire room at Dave's back, and he didn't have to worry so much about keeping track of all of his directions. "Where's Jade?" John yelled over the music, Rose nodded to behind them.

There was Jade, dancing with two guys and with her arms raised and- wow, shit, Jade could really get down too, apparently. "Damn," Dave's eyebrows shot up and he faced Rose again, swiping her still mostly full drink right out of her hand. Her jaw dropped and he shrugged, sipping at it and then grimacing, nose wrinkling up as he pulled the cup away. "Fuck, Rose, I thought you were supposed to have some sweet ass girly drink, I can barely taste the Coke in this."

Rose shrugged, the little smirk curling in the corner of her mouth stating her indifference. "What, is it too much for you to handle, Strider?"

"Fuck no."

"I'm going to go back to dancing," John called and jerked his thumb back to the crowd. "You two coming with?"

"Sure," Rose shrugged and Dave shook his head. "We'll see you in a little bit later, then?"

John clapped him on the shoulder. "Good job with dancing, Dave! You were really good at it."

"Thanks," Dave replied, but it came out drier than he meant it to. John stuck his tongue out and he and Rose went back into the crowd, molding into it in a way Dave could never.

Dave held his stolen drink to his chest and pushed his way through the center of the crowd, making a beeline for the stairs and going back up to resume his exploration. It hadn't cleared up any since he'd been here last. He wove around people all the way down the hall, opened the one that was farthest down, heard some chick give a porn star worthy moan and closed the door immediately. Oops.

Next door had what he was more interested in: Emptiness. Some jock's room, undoubtedly, it had the sour and tangy smell of somebody who either didn't shower enough or had a stack of laundry a mile high hidden away. There were some clothes on the floor, pictures of busty women on the wall and a football poster, etcetera.

He closed the door behind him. Though the whole house had been transformed into a party dungeon this had some element of intrusion to it, and he studied the room, noting the sunken in spot in the bed where the room's occupant had laid last. Textbooks were being used as a TV stand on a chest of drawers and Dave huffed a silent, appreciative laugh at that.

He went to the window, cracking it open and sticking his head out to take a breath, and he hadn't realized he'd been sweating til the coolness washed over him. The floor shook to the music, sending it vibrating up his feet and muffled through the door. Dave took another deep breath and the cement-like pressure that had filled up every free spot in his skull cracked some, not yet fuming out but promising that it was possible. He sat down on the corner of a chest of drawers.

Breathing deep, the night air sat chilly against his bare skin, and he tipped Rose's drink back and just chugged it, the alcohol burning mercilessly all the way down and setting his nostrils on fire. Drink downed, he stuck his tongue out, face wrinkling up in disgust and shivered. For being the smallest person in the group, Rose sure knew how to hork the alcohol down, jesus christ.

He set the cup on the floor. What a couple of weeks. The time from moving in til now had this weird quality of feeling like it'd happened yesterday, but also a lifetime ago. It'd all slid so easily into place. A new life, in some humid, godforsaken environment, surrounded by people he'd talked to every day and now got to see everyday. There were no more strifes, he didn't have to worry as much about opening a drawer and having a bucket full of knives drop down on him from the ceiling. It was good.

Rose was about as snarky as usual, though she listened more than she spoke in comparison to the internet. Jade was sweet as hell, no doubt about that, and she bounced between being an elegant fucking person to Tarzan's long lost sister. Then there was John, whom Dave was pretty sure had to be disappointed in something- probably in him, who knew. Sometimes when he thought Dave wasn't looking he'd have his lips pursed, like he was worrying about something. Despite it homeboy made the best roommate ever, way more tolerable than Bro. Hoped to god John didn't secretly hate him, Dave would never want to live with anybody else.

But then there was that shit with the scholarship... Dave sighed and combed his hair back. If anybody in their group of friends was going to get their fine ass kicked out of college, it was him. His life wasn’t meant to go anywhere or mean anything. Childish as it might be, though, he didn't want to go.

He sighed again and rubbed his fingers on his forehead. Spent a while there, grateful for the space and observing the way the grass in the neighbor's yard was trimmed like a military buzz cut. A small swimming pool was there too and there was a red and white striped ball in it, rotating slowly against the wall of pool.

The alcohol started to set in, harder than he'd imagined, too. He wasn't a shy butterfly when it came to booze, so he'd have to give Rose props for handling heavier amounts of it than he could. Kind of making him a bit sleepy and nauseous shouldn't have knocked it back so fast and saved his damn stomach. He shifted in his seat, trying to enjoy the night air in contrast to his stomach aching.

Downstairs, back in the music flowing through the air, John felt like he was- well, glowing. Being a part of such a huge crowd that was roaring and dancing made him breathe better and feel bigger and brighter in a way that very few other things could. He let the rhythm dictate the rush and movement of his body, laughing and cheering along with everyone else and grinning wider every time he checked on his girls and saw them dancing and having fun, unguarded smiles lighting up their faces and the little sparkles they'd stuck on their skin making them look like moving star shine.

The only drawback was that Dave had up and vanished, but the guy was pretty good at that, and as long as he was having fun in his own weirdo Dave Strider way it was fine. At one point Jade wandered on up to him and they held hands and danced, bouncing in a way that was meant to be fun rather than look good, and her laughter made John burst with it too, and his whole chest swelled up with how much he loved her. It was so crazy how much she felt like family when they'd grown up on different sides of the world.

As they danced, he kept an eye on Rose too. Mostly she danced by herself, awkwardly jamming out, and at some point had gotten another red cup. Then John would get lost in the music and laughter and just enjoying everything and Jade and the whole night was incredible. Not being able to drink sort of sucked, but it was fine, he was having fun anyway.

The music rolled from one song to the next, and they must have gotten onto their fourth song when he started to tire out and slow down. Jade’s buckteeth slipped out past her lips as she beamed, and she collapsed into his chest in a hug and shook with giggles he couldn't hear.

A bit of blond hair wandered over and for a second John hoped it was Dave, but Dave's hair was almost white and Rose's was rich, not to mention Rose was a lot smaller. The earlier smile was missing and she reached out to grab his arm, and John immediately came to a stop, expression dropping.

"Is everything okay?" He yelled, and Jade turned without letting go of him. Rose shook her head, frowning a little, and pointed to the exit.

Without question, John stuck his arm around Rose's shoulder and started to head out, almost tripping on Jade when she didn't let go of him fast enough. Kind of disappointed to be leaving the party already and he hoped whatever problem Rose had wasn't serious. They'd barely gotten there!

Took some work to get all the way back to the front door, especially since Rose was lagging a bit, but thankfully Jade was shouldering her way through the crowd to make them a path. The trio wandered out onto the lawn and Rose was squeezing John's arms, eyes on the grass.

"What's wrong?" John asked and Rose inhaled carefully. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I think," she spoke slowly, "someone spiked one of my drinks. No, not spiked. I mean they drugged it." She put her fingers to her forehead. "Ugh, no. What is it called when someone drugs your drink?"

"Someone drugged your drink?" John exclaimed, hands going to her cheeks. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just a bit light headed and everything is," she blinked and made a shooing motion with her hands. "I just feel a bit dizzy."

"We gotta get her to the car," Jade piped up, and John nodded.

"Can you walk?" He asked.

"Probably," her eyes crinkled as she smiled. "But I would not object to being treated like royalty."

John ducked down, and Rose put her arm across his shoulders, and he lifted her up bridal style, shifting her around a bit. She let out a long, heavy sigh, head leaning on her arm. "I was so careful," she added, sulking. "I made sure that my drinks did not come from an unworthy source."

"What counts as an unworthy source?"

"Anyone but the bartender."

"Do you have any idea who could've drugged you?"

"No. I watched my drinks, too, even while I was... dancing."

Rose sighed and John stayed focused, glancing behind them to make sure no one was following them. "Jade," he glanced at her next. "Can you get my keys out of my front left pocket? I'm sorry."

He slowed down to let her reach in and get it. "Should we call the police?" Jade asked.

"If she doesn't know who did it I don't know what they could do."

"No police," Rose cut in. "Please, I don't need my mother to- find out about this."

Jade frowned and arched an eyebrow. "Hospital?"

"I'll be fine," Rose swore as they came up to the car. Jade unlocked it and again opened the back door, and John carefully set her down, asking if she wanted to be lying down and getting a no. He buckled her in and grabbed the keys from Jade, straightening up and pausing.

"Oh damn it," he gave a lopsided frown.

"What is it?"

"Dave is still inside.”

"Why don't we get Rose home and then you can come back for him?" Jade suggested. "I'm sure he'll be fine by himself, Mister cool butt Dave Strider."

John stuck his jaw out, thinking and looking at the house. He closed Rose's door. "Can you sit in the back with her? She might get sick."

Nodding quickly, Jade rounded to the other side of the car and John climbed into the driver's seat, opening his phone to shoot Dave a quick text. He dropped his phone in the cup holder, double checked that everyone was wearing their seat belt and pulled off, driving slow and gentle.

Rose didn't speak. Just kept her eyes closed and Jade sat in the center seat, holding her hand. As the drug settled in Rose was relatively satisfied to find that overall she was decent, not as badly sloshed as she expected a date rape drug should have made her. They were about twenty minutes down the road, when she was trying to recall what hands had been near her drink that her eyes flew back open.

"Stop!" Rose blurted, and John peeked at her, pulling off to the side of the road.

"What's wrong, do you have to puke?" He asked, easing into a stop.

"No, no!" She waved both of her hands and leaned forward. "It's- the party, we have to go back to the party, John, turn around right now."

John twisted around and frowned. "Why?"

"Dave-"

"I'll pick him up after I get you home."

"No, Dave-" Rose's whole face wrinkled up and she looked at him pleadingly, trying to find the right words. John glanced at Jade, unsure. "Dave, he- my drink." Jade raised an eyebrow at John and he looked back at Rose, trying to decipher what those big, begging lilac eyes were trying to tell him. "My first drink, John."

Her drink. The first one she'd had, the one Dave had walked over and grabbed-

John's eyes widened with realization, and he faced the steering wheel again, setting it back into drive and doing a u-turn, and he snatched up his phone and speed dialed Dave's number. "What's with Rose's first drink?" Jade asked, confused.

"He stole her drink," John's voice was strained and his heart was beginning to pound. They'd gotten Rose immediately but if- oh my god. The phone rang into Dave's voicemail and John hung up, fingers going numb as he redialed- twenty minutes, it had been twenty minutes! It was going to take another twenty minutes to get back there and- shit, shit, shit. "If that cup was the one that was roofied he probably drank it."


End file.
